


Forever Divided

by neuxue



Category: Avatar: The Last Airbender
Genre: Angst, F/M, Zutara, Zutara Month, and some sads
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-03-16
Updated: 2013-03-16
Packaged: 2017-12-05 12:11:23
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,034
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/723156
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/neuxue/pseuds/neuxue
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When Zuko and Katara visit the North Pole (and the Spirit Oasis) after the war, Katara offers to try healing his scar, but some wounds cannot be healed. Written for Day 10 of Zutara Month 2012: Affliction.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Forever Divided

Like everything, the idyllic days in Ba Sing Se came to an end, and soon they scattered around the world to negotiate peace, to rebuild, to heal. Sokka was taking Suki to the South Pole, supposedly to begin establishing ties between the Southern Water Tribe and Kyoshi Island. Toph and Iroh planned to stay in Ba Sing Se before travelling across the Earth Kingdom to Omashu. Iroh was, after all, more experienced than any of them in the art of diplomacy.  
  
Aang decided to begin his journey as Avatar with the Eastern Air Temple, where Teo and the Mechanist had begun to establish their own Air culture. He tried to persuade Katara to accompany him, but she had her own duty to fulfill. She would go to the North Pole, to try to negotiate peace on behalf of the Fire Nation, as well as solidify the alliance between the two Water Tribes.  
  
She was surprised when Zuko announced that he would go with her. As newly-crowned Fire Lord, she had expected him to stay in the Capitol City, but he said that there were some apologies that needed to be made in person. Just as Iroh needed to be the one to treat with Ba Sing Se, Zuko said he had to do what he could to make amends for the crimes committed by his people during the Siege of the North.  
  
“But you didn’t kill the Moon Spirit,” Aang said, “that was Zhao. You weren’t even with the rest of the Fire Nation army.”  
  
Zuko shrugged. “Tell that to Yue’s father. I’m the Fire Lord, I am accountable for my nation.”  
  
“But couldn’t someone else – ”  
  
“No. I have my own apologies to make in the Spirit Oasis. Apologies I want to make in person.”  
  
No one argued. Zuko would not go for long – he would travel as far as the North Pole with Katara, and stay only as long as necessary to speak to Chief Arnook and visit the Spirit Oasis. Then he would return to the Capitol City, leaving her to carry out her own responsibilities with the Northern Water Tribe.  
  
When they said their farewells and boarded the ship, she glanced at Zuko and knew she was not alone in thinking of the last time they had set off together. It seemed a strangely long time ago.  
  
“I’m glad you decided to come,” Katara said.  
  
“It’s only fair. You came with me last time,” Zuko said.  
  
“Let’s try to avoid lightning this time,” said Katara, but the words didn’t come out as light and flippant as she had intended. A strange expression flickered across Zuko’s face, too quickly for her to decipher.  
  
Since the war had ended they had all been together, with various people coming and going, but always a group. So it was strange at first to have only Zuko. They had never spent much time together when there was no urgent task to be accomplished, no fight to be won. That first day was full of strange half-conversations, attempts at questions, awkward silences, until finally Zuko said what Katara was thinking.  
  
“It feels almost strange, not to be…fighting.”  
  
Katara laughed; his words had somehow snapped the odd tension that had grown between them. She thought vaguely of how much had changed, that she could think of the times the two of them had fought as enemies and laugh.  
  
“Who says we’re not fighting?” She said, flicking seawater into his face with a casual flick of her wrist.  
  
He raised his eyebrow as his expression changed from pensive to mischievous, and he tossed a ball of fire towards her. Smiling now, she pulled more water from the sea around them and cloaked her arms in it, dousing the flames and sending ice daggers flying towards Zuko’s head, but he had dropped to the deck and spun around, kicking fire at her from his feet. So she poured water onto the deck and froze it, trying to slip him up. He just used the slide to propel himself into the air, punching fire at her as flipped and landed on the deck that she had unbalanced by bending the water around the boat so it rocked.  
  
One of the crew poked her head out of a cabin window to shout at them, but they were all-out sparring now, ice and flames flying back and forth, hissing as they met. Soon the air around the deck was full of swirling steam and occasional shouts from the two benders.  
  
She thought she had him cornered up against the cabin wall, when she tossed her ice daggers like knives to pin his sleeves to the wood. But he just looked at her, smirking, and exhaled fire that melted the ice away, and they were sparring again.  
  
Katara had no idea how long it would have continued if the captain hadn’t finally come up onto the deck and shouted, “HEY! If you two don’t stop this _right now,_ I swear on the spirits I will turn this ship around and put you straight back onshore at Ba Sing Se.”  
  
Laughing, Zuko and Katara both dropped their bending stances. Katara was surprised to hear Zuko laugh; it was so rare to see him looking so carefree and _h _a_ ppy._ It had been a long time since she had had this much fun either.  
  
“Just like old times?” She asked him, still smiling. He smiled his half smile back at her.  
  
“I hope not. I’d rather not end up following turtle seals into the North Pole again.”  
  
“What do you mean, _again_? Wait. _Turtle seals_?” Katara asked, not even sure where to begin. So Zuko shrugged and told her the story of his ship being burned, of his plan to sneak into the North Pole, of following the turtle seals under the ice.  
  
It was as if sparring had broken some barrier between them, because when he finished telling his story, she started telling him about how she had fought Master Pakku for the right to be taught.  
  
“So that’s why you were so much better all of a sudden,” Zuko remarked dryly. “I had wondered.”  
  
And then he told her of Iroh teaching him firebending, and still almost getting them caught in Ba Sing Se by heating his tea. They both laughed at that. It felt so strange, to laugh at memories that still at times had the power to hurt. But those memories were different now, with the balm of forgiveness and friendship and the passage of time to ease the pain.  
  
They fell into an easy pattern over the next few days. Katara would wake up late, to find that Zuko had been up since sunrise. Then they would spar until the captain came to tell them off, and they would look out at the water and just talk. About memories and plans, about good times and bad, about families and friendships and enemies. About the war, about the strange new peace.  
  
Zuko already knew about her mother, but she learned how his had vanished, how her last words to him had been that she was protecting him. She told him how she had become the Painted Lady to help a village, he told her how he had mastered the dao when he had failed to master firebending.  
  
She talked about trying to fill in as a mother to Sokka, and Zuko said quietly “he’s lucky to have a sister like you.” And he told her of Azula. It was the first time she had hugged him since that day on the docks.  
  
When he finally told her how he got his scar, she kissed his face and held him close. For a long time neither of them said anything. They didn’t spar that afternoon.  
  
“We’ll go to the Spirit Oasis,” Katara said, breaking the long silence. “If you want, I can try to use the water to heal your scar.” She had never quite been able to get rid of the twinge of guilt she felt whenever she thought of the offer she had made in the crystal catacombs, the offer she had immediately forgotten when Aang had arrived. Now that she knew the story behind the scar, she felt even worse, even if she knew that by not using the water she had saved Aang’s life.  
  
“I don’t know,” Zuko said quietly. “It’s a part of me. A reminder of who I was, and the choices I made. I’m not sure I want to risk forgetting. In case I can’t remember what right and wrong are.”  
  
“You won’t forget.” Their enmity may have lasted longer than their newfound friendship, but looking at Zuko now, knowing what she knew, Katara couldn’t see anyone but the boy who had thrown himself in the path of his sister’s lightning for her, without hesitation, without a second thought.  
  
“I did once.” She knew he was thinking of Ba Sing Se again.  
  
“But you remade your choice. I trust you, Zuko.”  
  
“I’ll think about it,” he said, touching his scar without seeming to realise what he was doing. Katara nodded.  
  
“The offer always stands.” She stood then, to give him a chance to be alone with his thoughts. As she walked away she heard him speak softly, the words bringing up another memory.  
  
“Thank you Katara.”  
  
They reached the North Pole the next day, and Katara was greeted warmly by Chief Arnook, and Master Yugoda, and many of the others she had met when she had come here what felt like a lifetime ago. Zuko was accorded a cooler, though still respectful, welcome. They were wary of him, Katara could tell. Zuko obviously could as well, and she could see him making every effort to be polite, diplomatic.  
  
After a lavish dinner during which Katara talked with Chief Arnook about what had been happening in their respective parts of the world and Zuko looked more than a little uncomfortable and remained mostly silent, the two of them met privately with the chief. Zuko accorded Arnook the most formal of apologies from one leader to another, and it was impossible, Katara thought, to doubt his sincerity and remorse. Arnook simply nodded, but she could see something like admiration in his eyes.  
  
They moved on to discuss a peace treaty, and the terms of alliance. Chief Arnook invited other esteemed members of the tribe to contribute their ideas and opinions, and to hear the various proposals from Zuko on behalf of the Fire Nation, and Katara on behalf of the Southern Water Tribe. It was long, tedious work, but they all knew it was necessary, if the peace was to hold. Still, it was well past midnight when they finally left, promising to continue the conversation throughout the next few days.  
  
And so the days passed in a blur of diplomacy and meetings and endless negotiations. More than once, Katara was tempted to freeze everyone into blocks of ice so they would be forced to stop arguing and just listen to each other. She wasn’t alone – she noticed Zuko clenching his fists several times, the way he did when he was trying very hard not to set something on fire.  
  
Katara had asked Arnook in private if she and Zuko would be permitted to visit the Spirit Oasis, but he had suggested that they wait until peace negotiations were complete and a treaty signed. So instead, Katara and Zuko spent the time they weren’t negotiating walking through the city, trying to take in as much as possible of the sights, the sounds, the culture. They continued sparring almost daily, drawing audiences that ranged from curious and impressed to suspicious.  
  
And when they weren’t sparring, or talking about peace treaties, they were talking to each other. They had few secrets between them now. It was strange, in a way, to know this much about Zuko – for so long she had seen him as nothing more than a dangerous enemy, a threat. And later on as a friend. But now she knew his stories and he knew hers. They knew each other’s hopes and fears and dreams. It was new for her to share her secrets with someone, and have their secrets in return. She was more accustomed to conversations like the one she had once overheard between Toph and Sokka. About her, never to her. Or like Aang, who came to her when he needed comfort, but with whom she had never shared the full truth about her mother.  
  
For some reason, though, one of the few topics she never spoke of with Zuko was Aang. She never told him of the time Aang had kissed her before the invasion on the Day of Black Sun, or what he had said to her when they watched the Ember Island Players. She didn’t tell Zuko that she sometimes thought Aang would always be a little brother to her. And she never asked him about Mai.  
  
Finally, after what felt like years but was really only five days, the talks came to a close without anyone ever being frozen to a wall. Hawks were sent out with copies of the treaty, and Arnook granted Zuko and Katara permission to visit the Spirit Oasis before Zuko had to return to the Fire Nation. He offered to show them the way, but Katara shook her head and told him she remembered. Then she took Zuko by the hand and led him to the place they had truly fought for the first time.  
  
For a long while, neither of them said anything as they took in the sight of the Oasis around them. It looked different now, in peacetime, and yet strangely the same.  
  
“I’m sorry,” Zuko said softly into the silence. “I’m sorry for everything I did here.” He turned and looked at her, then bowed formally. Katara wasn’t sure whether to laugh or cry.  
  
“You have nothing to be sorry for, Zuko. Not to me. Not anymore.”  
  
But Zuko shook his head. “I want to do this right.” And Katara nodded. That much, she understood.  
  
Then Zuko walked over to the pond where the koi swam round and round, always circling each other, blurring into a yin and yang. “I’m sorry,” Zuko whispered to them, kneeling by the water. “On behalf of my people, as Fire Lord, I have come to apologise for the wrongs done to you. I ask your forgiveness, but I will face your judgment.”  
  
He bowed his head, but the fish just continued to swim.  
  
“I think,” Katara said quietly, placing a hand on his shoulder, “you are forgiven.”  
  
Zuko nodded and stood. “I think...” he said, and trailed off. “I think I’d like you to try. With the water. To…” he gestured to his face, and Katara nodded, understanding immediately.  
  
“You’re sure?” she asked, reaching a hand into the pool and gathering the water to her.  
  
“Yes. I’ve realised, I don’t need to be at war with myself anymore.”  
  
“I don’t know if this will work,” Katara warned, “but I’ll try.” She lifted her hand to his face, her fingers brushing his scar gently as the water began to glow.  
  
She felt the division in the skin, and followed it, but it went far deeper than she expected. It was as though the scar stretched into the very core of his being; an old wound, healed now but leaving a mark behind that, try as she might, she could do nothing to erase. Finally, she drew her hand back, and shook her head sadly.  
  
“I’m sorry,” she said, and she could see the flicker of disappointment in his eyes, though he tried to hide it.  
  
“That’s okay. It’s probably just as well, I’ll always be divided.”  
  
Katara looked at him, not understanding. She had felt the scar of an old division within him, but his choice had been made.  
  
“Because I will always want something that I know is impossible.”  
  
 _He can’t mean_ …she thought, and tried to frame the question. “What – what do you mean?”  
  
Instead of answering, he lifted his hand to cup her cheek, as her hand still cupped his. Then slowly, cautiously, he pressed the gentlest of kisses to her lips before pulling back to look at her sadly. She stared at him for a moment, a strange mix of emotions warring within her. Then she stepped forward and returned the kiss, with none of the same restraint. She pressed herself to him and ran her fingers through his hair as his arms encircled her. They kissed with a passion that put their fights to shame, the passion of missed opportunities and forgotten chances, of what could have been, of borrowed time.  
  
It was all she could do to break the kiss, to pull away. There were tears on her cheeks, and she wasn’t sure if they were hers or his.  
  
“I’m sorry Zuko. I can’t do this. I can’t – to Aang. I’m sorry.”  
  
“But you can do it to me,” he said, his voice ragged, and she felt her heart break. This was beyond her power to heal.  
  
“No,” Katara said, anguish in her voice, “No. That’s not – I wish – ”  
  
“I know. Aang needs you. And the world needs the Avatar.”  
  
She knew he spoke the truth, and she wished it were not so. She wished love were an affliction she could heal, like sickness or a wound. Instead it would scar, deeply and invisibly, beyond the reach of any waterbender, any Spirit Water. Even the tears flowing down her cheeks did little to ease the pain of saying good-bye to something she had hardly had a chance to know.  
  
“Good bye Zuko,” she whispered, and before she could stop herself she kissed him again, a kiss full of tears and if-onlys.  
  
“Good bye Katara,” he said just as softly. “And…thank you.” And then he turned and slowly walked out of the Oasis, where so much had begun and so much had ended. And Katara sank to her knees beside the pool and let the tears fall for the boy she had once hated, for the man she had come to love, for the friend she could not heal.


End file.
